Frills, furs & furbillows

A stunning new exhibition reveals the bewitching skill and invention of Tudor and Stuart style, says Robin Dutt
I have something to confess – but no guilt to assuage. At a far too tender age, I collected endless pin-up postcards and plastered my bedroom walls with them. I can see them now: there she was – tight, unforgiving waist, prominent bust, strategically placed orient pearls accenting other parts. A schoolboy’s fantasy. Her name was Liz… Well… Elizabeth I, to be precise.

My fascination with Charles I started a few years later. And it was always the immediacy and intricacy of their garb that thrilled – far more than that of later monarchs.

In Fine Style: The Art Of Tudor And Stuart Fashion, the sumptuous new exhibition at The Queen’s Gallery, is a delicious but stark reminder of the reŠfined, purposeful glamour of royal clothing of this period when appearance – governed by ‘Šfinery’ – was essential to even be thought of in court circles, let alone welcomed.

1 17th century gold threated purse in the shape of a frog 2 Velvet ruby mules 3 Queen Mary's patch box (c.1694) 4 Queen Elizabeth I by Nicholas Hilliard (c. 1595-1600)1 17th century gold threated purse in the shape of a frog 2 Velvet ruby mules 3 Queen Mary's patch box (c.1694) 4 Queen Elizabeth I by Nicholas Hilliard (c. 1595-1600)
It was also a period when ancient sumptuary laws, dating back to Roman times, and perhaps, beyond, were strictly adhered to. By controlling what materials, furs and decoration could be worn, one naturally controlled society and made a giddy chasm between classes – including those thinner delineations at the very top. For example, at the time, lynx fur could not be worn by anyone below a duke. Even colours were restricted: purple (often called Royal) was always limited to leaders.

The show brings together several instantly recognisable portraits; not only because of that familiar stately sti“ffness of so much royal portraiture, but that certain pose, the better to display the elaborateness of the sumptuous detail. Each element of the wearer’s costume speaks of the craft and the diligence of skilled artisans – lace makers, embroiderers, jewellers. Even the work of those whose skill, perhaps, was taken for granted – the dyers – is a marvel.

Considering there were no artificial hues until the mid 19th century, the glowing lustre of the silks and velvets and the crisp whiteness of collars and cuffs almost seem impossible. And if one thinks that it was the artist seeking to curry favour by making a divinity out of an ordinary duchess, think again. Display cabinets with items of costume that have survived turbulent times continue to glisten and glister – and provide a perfect reference.

5 Henry Stewart and his brother Charles Stewart by Hans Eworth(1563) 6 Elizabeth I when a princess (c.1546), attributed to William Scrots
Somehow, so many costumes look so contemporaneous – or at the very least, elements of them. A point that is not lost on British designer Gareth Pugh who, like myself, was transfixed by possibly the same image of Elizabeth I, wearing the usual ruff and sumptuous padded dress. He takes inspiration from both Tudor and Stuart periods, evident when one observes the architectural detail of his own designs.

Some of the most striking paintings are perhaps not the largest nor the most jewel-colourful. The supremely elegant Hans Eworth (c. 1520-1574) portrait of two brothers is almost Duochrome and early photographic – dandy souls in pitch black – a touch funereal, but sharp and chic.

Van Dyck’s superb portrait of Charles I In Three Positions (1635), will be familiar to many and shows a variety of kingly finery – gleaming satin, azure watered silk and piercelace collar – made more tangible by an actual lace collar in a case hard by, thought to have once been worn by the doomed monarch, who was executed in 1649.

Some of the most exciting exhibits are the treasures rescued from the past, such as the intimate and intricate accessories – jewels, and in particular, a beautiful patch box. Patches were used in this period to emphasise the obligatory whiteness of the face – leaden pale. Invariably the patches were coal black. But as well as being thought to enhance beauty, they were often used to cover the evidence of smallpox scars.

The intricacy and attention to detail, from embroidered gloves (more gauntlets) to a perfectly balanced parure, featuring pearls, rubies and emeralds dating from the late 16th century, a tiny pair of velvet ruby mules with metallic thread embroidery, still gleaming, to a gold thread and yellow taffeta purse in the shape of a frog – so quirky it could be now. Only of course, it is better constructed.

This is undoubtedly a lesson in elegance. Where are those sumptuary laws when you need them?

In Fine Style: The Art Of Tudor And Stuart Fashion is at The Queen’s Gallery, Buckingham Palace, London SW1, until 6 October: 020- 7766 7300, www.royalcollection.org.